The Easter Bunny is a Mutant
by candelight
Summary: Turtle tots! Okay, maybe Santa's been able to escape their nets. But that's because the old coot has an unfair advantage: He sees you when you're sleeping, and knows when you're awake. But how is a BUNNY sneaking past four ninjas-in-training? Unless...


The Easter Bunny is a Mutant

バニーはストーカーです！

Turtle tot fiction! Okay, maybe Santa's been able to escape their nets. But that's because the old coot has an unfair advantage: He sees you when you're sleeping, and knows when you're awake. But the Easter Bunny noiselessly breaks into the Hamato household every Springtime! A Spy? A Private Eye? Or is it time the tots try hunting one of their own?

...

...konnichiwa, everyone.

...

...do I start groveling, now?

Things right now are insane...school is ending shortly, my siblings' have a birthday this week, one of my friends has a birthday on Tuesday, I have an Art project to finish, I'm leaving for the South in a few weeks for college, and-and...

But still, Easter is coming, and I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least try to squeeze in some Springtime Turtle Tot joy. Hoping you and yours have a happy day of warmth, family, and renewal, regardless of what religion or creed you follow.

This year, I'm having Easter with my brother-in-law's family-admittedly people I don't know, but am hoping that will change for the better. :)

Please, take care, everyone.

* * *

><p><em>Christmas Eve, Last Year<em>

They had worried, because they had had no Chimney. Splinter assured them that there was nothing to worry about-Santa was just as capable as walking through the front door as he was squeezing down a chimney. With presents.

That little line had captured their attention, all right-but six year old Donatello had been just a little skeptical. Squeezing down a chimney was one thing-but what about when your 'stomach shook like a bowl full of jelly?' How in the world would he wriggle his way down a New York City _Manhole?_

Donny had done a quick search on their second-hand computer (Which had taken forever to load), and make a quick average on how many families reported their children had left cookies for Santa to eat while on his way. The ratio? Not pretty, because not only were the cookies ALWAYS gone the next morning, but there had to be hundreds-if not thousands-of people who unreportedly did the same thing!

"We oughta leave some carrots and celery for the big guy," Raph murmured, staring at the cover of _The Night Before Christmas _in distaste. "It's amazin' dat da reindeer can get him and da sleigh of da ground."

Mikey had only made a face at that, but it soon brightened.

"Santa can leave me any of the cookies he didn't want from around the world! I'LL help him with his diet!"

Leo had sighed while carefully looking over his Christmas list.

"If he's really as big as they say, I don't know if they'll be any spares, Mike. Mrs. Claus probably isn't going to be happy that he's been cheating again. Santa needs to work out, more."

But regardless of Santa's size or cholesterol intake, there remained one very important question: Why did Master Splinter allow Santa inside their home?

Leo had cocked his head to the side when he'd approached Splinter at their old kitchen table, a small frown on his face, and his eyes nonplussed.

"Master Splinter? How come we have to stay underground AWAY from humans-but you let Santa in each and every year? Isn't he...dangerous?"

But the rat had only turned another page of his newspaper, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. But his voice was composed when he spoke:

"My son...ah...Santa is...a different calibre of human. You see, he-"

"Because he knows everything?" piped up Mikey, who was lying on his stomach nearby, watching an old _Rudolph_tape on their old telly.

Splinter graciously nodded.

"So he knows we're not bad, even if we are turtedly awesome?"

Raph snorted from his spot on the sofa.

"Keep talkin' like dat, Mike, and Santa don't gonna wanna stop here."

Mikey pouted.

"Hey! Santa's been watchin' YOU, Raph! And he knows that while I've been nothin' but _nice_, you're getting a fat lump of coal in your stocking this year!"

Raph scoffed, though his face did look just a little worried. Splinter turned the pages to the economic system, eyes thoughtful.

"Hmmm...to be honest...I do suppose we could use more coal for the kitchen stove..."

Everyone cringed.

But while 'Santa' was marked as alright in the turtles' books, capturing him in the act and meeting him was not only proving to be more difficult then any of them had ever imagined. While the Santa in the storybook had made a real ruckus, THIS Santa was silent. Stealthy. And much as the turtles waited for him in their bedroom with bated breath, there was never a sound.

But there was always something lying underneath their small tree in the morning. And Splinter scrimped and saved whatever resources they could scavenge to make the food they enjoyed that evening more plentiful then usual. Christmas was a magical time, but what would REALLY set the enchantment was meeting the creepy man who broke into their home every year. Did his reindeer make it underground with him?

No one knew. But they were determined to find out.

They had meant to ambush him from the darkness of the living room. Splinter had only closed his eyes, and, with a grin on his face, left them to it as he departed for the safety of the closet space he employed for meditation.

Mikey had stood on Raph's shoulders near the spot the turtles thought a fireplace should be in the room, wriggling uncomfortably with a patched up butterfly net in his arms.

"Quit movin', Mikey!" Raph hissed, scowling up at his younger brother in the darkness, as a pair of wide eyes swiveled to his. "Yer not makin' this any-ermph-easier!"

Mikey fidgeted more, grabbing onto the nearby brick wall to keep his balance.

"I was just thinking-"

"Please don't."

"-that maybe Santa will be angry if we're up to meet him. Or if we capture him."

Raph sneered.

"If he gets mad, I'll just show him some ninja, and he'll be out of our hair in no time."

Mikey blinked.

"Raph, we don't got no hair."

Leo scoffed from the darkness beside the two turtles.

"Suppose he won't leave us anything. That's really grateful of you, Raph."

Raph turned around with a growl, but before a fight could break out, Don spoke up sleepily from behind Leo.

"How do you think he gets around the world-with all those people and time zones-in one night? Suppose there isn't a Santa."

The four turtles paused, not having considered such a revolutionary idea. But then, Raph spoke up, doubt lined in his voice.

"But...but where do da gifts come from, then?"

Don shrugged in the dark, realized the others couldn't see him, and sighed.

"I dunno...Splinter, maybe? But we'll just have to wait and see. I was just thinkin' that someone probably had the same idea that we had at least once. How can Santa get past so many people?"

Leo leaned against the brick wall, deep in thought.

"We'll let Splinter think we're in bed. Then, we wait here for someone to come. We'll see who's who, then. No one will get past_ us_."

They agreed on Leo's scheme-and decided to take shifts in sleeping. The moment anyone saw anything, they were to wake the others immediately.

They drew straws to see who would go first in shifts-and Mikey drew the shortest straw.

Which, turned out to be a disaster in and of itself.

Mikey woke his brothers every few seconds, half-convinced he'd seen something stir from the shadows. On the third time, his brothers were getting cranky, and Mikey was getting sleepy.

And in the morning, the four found themselves under the tree, next to a small bundle of newspaper-wrapped parcels, a candy cane in each of their hands-

And a plate of Vanilla Wafers, which hadn't been there the previous evening-sitting neatly by the tree.

So Santa was a master prowler-and a ninja, at that. The turtles had to grudgingly give him that.

But there was always next year. Don was already working on making an alarm for Santa to trip.

Holy Saturday, Present Day

Easter was the celebration of Springtime coming back to Earth. Though you couldn't see much of Springtime in NYC, much less underground-it was still a festive time of year, which to the turtles, meant that you could leave the lair without Splinter tugging you back to squeeze a hot hat on your head and wrap a scratchy scarf around your neck, which was indeed something to celebrate.

On Easter, the four turtles looked for each of their four eggs-ate them for breakfast, and enjoyed a sweet something. For the turtles, it wasn't as elaborate as Christmas Day, but something to look forward to, nonetheless.

There was only one problem in this arrangement: Another breaker-and-enterer (Leo had heard the term on a Cop Show) was entering their house.

And this time, the turtles were desperate to catch him, for what kind of ninjas would they be if they were outsmarted by a _rabbit_?

While the four began their plot at breakfast that day, Splinter hid another smile while he began his Saturday morning ritual of cutting coupons.

The shouts of glee and the groans of failure echoed down the hall, just as the sound of small feet pattering to Splinter's room to show off their newly-gotten gain accompanied it. Master Splinter curled into a warm ball on his bedding, eyes still squeezed tightly shut.

"You fell asleep _again_, Mikey! That's _twice_ now! No wonder da bunny got away from us!"

"Nu-uh! It was _your _shift, Raphie! Besides, we woulda woken if he'd hopped past us! I say he wasn't here in the first place!"

"Then what's with the eggs? We woulda seen Splinter color _those_! And how is he gonna find_ candy _in da sewas?"

"Well, maybe the bunny's a mutant like us!"

"Actually, that's not_ improbable_, if he has to carry all those baskets around the world..."

"Don, d'you think you can start workin' on an alarm for him, too?"

Exhausted, Splinter nonetheless allowed himself a quiet chuckle or two before his door slid open.

_Fin_


End file.
